


Overtime

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Grieving, Modern AU, Workplace AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:36:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: Brienne is struggling with her grief after her father's death. Fortunately for her, Jaime is there to help her through it.





	Overtime

Brienne rubbed her eyes. She was pretty sure that numbers weren't supposed to do that. They were meant to stay still, not wriggle around and dance on the screen. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. It wasn't a pretty sight. Her shirt was rumpled, heavy bags hung under her red rimmed eyes, and her hair a bird's nest. Her trousers, she knew, were creased and in need or ironing. In fact, the rest could be said for the rest of her.

“You're working too hard,”

Brienne started in her seat at the touch of a hand to her shoulder. She twisted her head round and stared blearily up at Jaime Lannister, infuriatingly handsome and dapper in his designer suit, looking down on her with concern. She scowled and rubbed her eyes once more, waiting for the tender look to fade away and for Jaime to say something rude or sarcastic. Instead he just watched her, forehead creased.

“No I'm not,” she protested.

“It's nine in the evening and everyone else has gone home,” Jaime pointed out.

“What's it you?” Brienne demanded, trying to return to her computer.

“Well,” Jaime began, leaning against the edge of her desk, “For one I _am_ your boss. And a healthy worker equals a happy worker equals a productive worker!” he chirped.

Brienne grimaced at the syrup. “What seminar did you get that from?”

“The one up in Oldtown,” Jaime scowled, “We had to do team building exercises and every time one of the organisers yelled out 'Attitude check?' we had to do a Mexican wave,”

Brienne shuddered. “Don't you dare try doing anything like that in here?”

“What?” Jaime asked in mock innocence, “Don't you think it's a good idea? I also thought of implementing a 'Feelings Friday'. Every Friday afternoon we get into a circle, drink tea, and take turns holding the 'Sharing and Caring Stick,”

“I will literally kill you,” Brienne growled, causing Jaime to laugh lightly.

“No you won't,”

“Oh yes I will!” she growled, “I will hunt you down, yank out your tongue and cut off your own 'Caring and Sharing stick,”

Jaime just laughed even more, the bastard.

“Alright, alright,” he reassured her, “How about I just order in Doughnuts instead?”

“Better,”

They shared smiles, before Jaime's face turned serious.

“I'm serious though Brienne,” he said gently, “You look exhausted. Go home, get some rest. You don't have to come in tomorrow,”

Brienne shook her head and looked up at him pleadingly, “I can't stay home Jaime, I need to work. You know I need to work,”

Jaime sighed and slumped down on the desk. “I know that you want to stay busy, but you're making yourself sick-”

“I think I can judge the state of my own health, thank you!” Brienne snapped.

Jaime raised his hands in surrender. “You're right, I'm sorry,” he agreed, “But I am worried about you. You've been coming early every morning, and staying on into the night. It can't be good for you,”

Brienne swallowed a lump and looked at her computer screen, watching Jaime in it's reflection. She couldn't have him look her in the eye, not when she could feel the tears pooling.

“I can't go home,” she admitted, “Not without dad there. It's just so empty,” Jaime's hand reached out and rested upon Brienne's shoulder, giving her a squeeze.

“I know I should just move out,” she admitted, “But that's always been our home, mine and dad's. If I left now, it would be like I was losing the last part of him I had left,”

This was the most Brienne had voiced her grief over her father's death since the night he died. Jaime knew as much. He had been there in the hospital with her, holding her as she heartbroken sobs broke out of her aching body. Selwyn's health had been failing a for a long time, yet even so Brienne hadn't been ready for the pain his loss caused her.

“You could stay with me for the next few days,” Jaime offered, “If you'd like,”

Brienne looked up, startled. “What?”

“Seriously. Come stay with me for a bit, get some space. You can borrow my pyjamas tonight and I'll send Peck round to yours tomorrow for your stuff,”

“I don't think that's such a good idea,” Brienne said doubtfully, “Won't people talk?”

“Let them,” Jaime shrugged carelessly, not letting on that there was already a pool in the office debating as to when and where the two would finally have sex. “It would do you some good. Give you some time to decide what to do with the house, and you can get some rest. You won't be making any decent decisions in the state you're in now,”

Brienne had to admit, she was tempted. She _was_ tired. Even when she managed to get home, she would be unable to sleep, the deafening silence keeping her up and the grief lying like a dead weight on her chest. She would usually end up falling asleep at four in the morning in front of the telly, volume right up to drown out her thoughts. Sometimes she would find herself falling asleep on the bus to work. The company sounded nice.

Really nice, in fact. Especially as it was Jaime.

“Alright,” she said, “If it's not burden,”

“Of course it isn't!” Jaime reassured her brightly, helping her up from her seat and jangling his car keys, “It'll be fun,”

“Fun?” Brienne repeated doubtfully.

“Lot's of fun,” Jaime said with a nod.

“If you're sure, and you don't have to lend me your pyjamas,”

“Nonsense!” Jaime declared, “What's mine is yours. My pyjamas, my house, my food, my telly... In fact,” he added with a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips, “If you'd like, I will even let you play with my 'Sharing and Caring' stick!”

 


End file.
